


Do No Harm (Or Something, at Least)

by Squeeb100



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Character Study, Gen, Hurt Loki (Marvel), Hurt/Comfort, Major Character Injury, Post-Avengers (2012), Whump, after hulk smashes loki bruce has to fix him, i guess, searching for parallels between characters, the first 2/3 of this is a year old
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-15
Updated: 2019-06-15
Packaged: 2020-05-12 11:06:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,662
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19227919
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Squeeb100/pseuds/Squeeb100
Summary: Bruce comes to in Stark tower after Hulk smashes Loki, has a brief moral dilemma, and ends up trying to save a would-be dictator's life. Later, he and the dictator have a nice civil chat about it.“'Then. Why. Did. You. Help. Me.' Loki looked down at Bruce with all the intensity he remembered from earlier, scarier conversations. But behind the menace and intimidation, Bruce could see Loki’s question for what it was: desperate."





	Do No Harm (Or Something, at Least)

**Author's Note:**

> Content warning for graphic depictions of traumatic injury and some very dubious medical practice written by a 19-year-old biology major

Bruce came back to himself disoriented as always, wearing shorts that were at least eight sizes too big for him and standing barefoot on the cold granite floor of what appeared to be Stark Tower. He glanced around, trying to get his bearings; there were crashes and whirs and screams coming from outside, and oh God, that’s right, Loki and aliens and New York under attack--but glancing around the room, Bruce found that  _ he _ was not at the epicenter of the chaos. What had the Other Guy been doing in here?

A quiet little groan came from the floor adjacent to where the scientist stood. And oh, okay, that’s what the Other Guy had been doing in here. Smashing. There were several sizeable dents in the floor, one of which was currently full of blood and Loki’s thoroughly beaten form. The god lay on his back, arms folded loosely over his midsection as he stared dazedly up at the ceiling. Bruce looked at him dubiously, suspecting foul play or some sort of trick, but when nothing changed and the god whined weakly again, Bruce hoisted his giant shorts around his waist like a sarong and waddled over.

“Hey, guys?” he said into his com, “I’ve got a Loki situation here.”

“Are you in trouble?” Natasha’s voice fizzled in, amidst sounds of intense battle. She sounded surprised to hear his voice. He didn’t blame her.

“No, uh, he’s...incapacitated,” Bruce replied, edging closer. Loki turned his head and regarded him with a dazed sort of disinterest, still whining a bit. “The Other Guy hurt him pretty bad.”

“Is he in imminent danger?” Thor grunted through the com, just as Tony shouted, “I’m a little tied up at the moment!”

“He’s...alive? But yeah, it looks nasty. What do you guys want me to do?”

“Don’t allow him to leave,” Steve ordered, speaking over the end of Natasha’s “Be careful, it might be a trick.”

“Yeah, uh…” Bruce craned his neck to look at Loki a little harder; the stunned god blinked slowly at him. “He’s not going anywhere.”

“Attempt to stabilize him,” Thor suggested. “I am unable to reach you at the moment.” Bruce got the idea that this was the general consensus among his teammates, so he turned his communicator to neutral and looked at Loki, still at a safe five-foot radius, and tried to figure out what the hell to do. On one hand, Bruce could take this opportunity to finish it. Kill the madman, end the war. He could make it quick, put Loki out of his misery.

On the other hand, that would be shitty. To hit Loki while he was down, though he knew that’s exactly what Loki would do were the situation reversed. But the war waged on without Loki’s leadership, and Bruce got the feeling that killing the crumpled god wouldn’t change much of anything. And there was the Hippocratic oath. Bruce hadn’t ever actually  _ taken  _ it, but he was a sort-of doctor and there was something that felt deeply, inherently wrong with taking advantage of this situation, even if he’d technically won the fight fair and square. 

Do no harm; if he killed Loki, did that  _ really  _ make him the hero? And so Bruce knew he could never, not in a million years or in any possible timeline, go through with it.

Loki had stopped making those horrible pained sounds, but Bruce doubted he should interpret that as a good sign. He bit the bullet (figuratively this time) and closed the distance between himself and the fallen god, kneeling next to him. When Loki belatedly registered what was happening, he bared his teeth at Bruce (that expression was terrifying, and Bruce would never get used to it, he didn’t know that was something people  _ did, _ that was such an  _ animal  _ show of strength), but as he moved to--attack? defend? Bruce didn’t know--he whimpered and went lax. The god closed his eyes, breathed deeply, then looked back up at his fate.

“Here to...finish me off, then, doctor?” his voice was weak, but he was coherent, which had to be a good sign. God, right? Hardier than a human. “Where’s your green friend, hm?”

Even now, Loki was taunting him. Bruce wouldn’t rise to the bait.

“Look, Loki, I don’t like you,” Bruce said bluntly, “but I don’t want to kill you. I want to help you, if you’ll allow me.” His eyes flicked to a stream of clear fluid that had begun to run from Loki’s nose. That could be cerebrospinal fluid, which wasn’t good; Bruce wondered how Loki was even conscious.

“Wh-why would you…” Loki’s gaze unfocused for a second, “hngh...help me?” He trailed off at the end. Speaking clearly hurt. Everything clearly hurt.

“I’m arguably a doctor and I have to. It’s dumb,” Bruce agreed weakly. “Will you let me look at you?” Loki looked like he wanted to stab Bruce a hundred different ways, but he eventually conceded, nodding very slightly and then cringing.

Right. ABCs. Loki’s airway was probably fine, since he was speaking. Bruce laid a hand on Loki’s chest and felt his breathing come shallow and ragged--further investigation of his thorax yielded a few broken ribs, at least one of which had probably punctured a lung. Nothing to be done about that. Circulation: Loki’s pulse fluttered too fast under Bruce’s fingers, but he assumed that was a result of blood loss, another issue he had no real means of resolving. Though he was almost certain Loki was concussed, he leaned in to look at his eyes--he’d forgotten what a chilling color they were. One pupil was extremely dilated.

Bruce sighed. “He really beat you up, didn’t he?”

“Do you not remember?” Loki asked, still struggling to focus on Bruce’s face. He had a bloody nose now, too, which was fine. More normal than the clear fluid, but that was still going on as well, and Loki wasn’t looking at Bruce properly anymore. Bruce felt around Loki’s forehead gently, acknowledging in the back of his mind how fundamentally wrong this whole situation felt. Loki had, directly or indirectly, killed at least eighty people, and Bruce was sure the number was rising even as they spoke. From his few observations of the god, Loki was highly intelligent and off his  _ ass _ crazy. This was a guy with no qualms about double-crossing, torturing, murdering and terrorizing people. He was dangerous. Bruce probably shouldn’t have been trying to stand between him and death. Bruce probably shouldn’t have been sitting there growing increasingly concerned about his chances of survival.

“No. Me and the Other Guy, we’re different people.” Bruce didn’t know why he was explaining. “I wasn’t conscious of attacking you. I don’t know what happened. But you’re hurt. Is there anything glaringly obvious that I can fix?”

Loki’s focus drifted for a moment; Bruce could see him trying to isolate his pain. “Arm,” he finally rasped. 

Bruce laid his hands gently on Loki’s left arm, the one closest to him, and began to gently feel for breaks. Loki hissed and Bruce felt the bone was out of place once, twice, in three places. He reached across the god’s body to feel the other arm, finding one break. Now that he looked more closely at Loki’s right arm, he could see that it was awkwardly angled, and Loki flinched away as Bruce felt his shoulder, noticing a telltale knob.

“Your shoulder is dislocated,” he informed Loki. “I’m going to rotate it up and pop it back in. It’ll hurt for a second, but then it will be much better.” Without waiting for a reply, Bruce braced himself against Loki’s body and set his shoulder as quickly as possible. Loki made an agonized sound and grimaced, but it was over in moments.

“...Despise this,” Loki murmured weakly. 

“Me too, buddy,” Bruce replied. “Try not to black out on me, okay? Your brother will kill me if I let you die.”

“Not…” Loki protested, trailing off.

Bruce wasn’t really sure what to do with Loki next. The arm hadn’t even been a real problem, Bruce just knew how to do that and if he didn’t do anything he’d feel useless. He was out of his depth here, and didn’t have the tools to take care of this at  _ all.  _ He could see what was probably a compound fracture in Loki’s leg, which was twisted horribly inside his pants, and there had clearly been extensive head trauma. A lot of blood was coming from somewhere, and based on the smashed floor, there was probably a good amount of internal bleeding, plus the broken ribs and the probable lung problems. Loki was probably lucky his spine wasn’t broken.

Loki was probably going to die anyway. 

The god turned again and looked up at Bruce, a little more focused this time. “You are...a-an idiot,” he murmured, then coughed a few times. His eyes unfocused again. He was breathing extremely rapidly.

“Probably,” Bruce agreed. “I should probably kill you. I can’t, though.” He didn’t know why he was admitting it.

“I wouldn’t have thought...humans such as you...existed…” more coughing and some gagging. Bruce turned Loki’s head gently to the side in case he vomited and the god appeared to lose consciousness for a moment.

“Stay with me, Loki,” Bruce insisted loudly. He could hear the edge of nerves in his voice.

“How goes the battle?” Loki came back to himself, asked a question, and made the motion of vomiting, though only a dribble of blood trailed down his chin. “This is humiliating,” he muttered, more to himself than to Bruce. 

“We’re both having a bad day,” Bruce joked halfheartedly. He felt something dangerously close to compassion for Loki and had to remind himself that this was a psychotic, cold-blooded murderer. Loki’s eyes rolled back and he blacked out again, for a little longer this time. When he regained consciousness he regarded Bruce with detached confusion.

“Here...to finish me off?” He asked weakly. Oh, God. 

“Loki, I’m trying to help you,” Bruce reminded him firmly, insisting against the overwhelming feeling of helplessness. He registered hearing Tony say something about a nuclear missile. “Oh my God, are you  _ nuking  _ us?” He asked Loki, shocked in spite of himself. They were both dead anyway.

“Don’t know...what that is.” Loki whined and convulsed weakly and some more blood spilled out of his mouth. He looked back up at Bruce and this time there was a strange, animal terror in his eyes. He tried to pull away from Bruce but pain and his awkward angle prevented it. 

These were Bruce’s last moments, and he was spending them in the company of a dying god. These were Loki’s last moments, and he was spending them confused and in pain with a person he seemed not to recognize anymore. Bruce reached out and touched Loki’s hair, wet with blood. 

“You’re okay,” he murmured. Loki closed his eyes and exhaled shakily through his nose.

Then Loki lost consciousness, Tony disappeared into the void for a second, the nuke was rerouted, and New York was saved, or something like that.

***

There was something Hannibal Lecter-y about the cell S.H.I.E.L.D. was keeping Loki in.

Though Bruce hadn’t seen the god in weeks, he had been informed that Loki had made a full recovery (magic powers, of course, Thor had supplied) and was in custody. As soon as he was able, Bruce made his way down to see him. It was just a doctor’s instinct, he wanted to know how he’d done. And, he’d admit, he’d been…

Worried.

Visiting Loki was no easy task, however. The god was being held in the basement of one of S.H.I.E.L.D.’s land bases behind three layers of security--Bruce had to walk through a metal detector, then walk through a series of sealing chambers that reminded him of something on the end of a walk-through bird or butterfly exhibit at a zoo. Mini Loki-traps. Between the chambers he was made to strip down completely and change into a S.H.I.E.L.D. uniform. He received two pat-downs.

When he exited the final chamber, he expected to be in a hall of secret supervillains, at least ten other crazies S.H.I.E.L.D. had captured and locked away. But that security was one-hundred percent for Loki; after the safety-net chambers was a large round room. In the center was a round glass cell, similar to the one on the Helicarrier that had been intended for the Other Guy (a thought that still sent a tiny stab of resentment through Bruce).

There were a few essential pieces of furniture in the cell, and a number of books. Loki was reclining on a cot, reading. He looked perfectly fine.

One of the many guards stationed outside the cell looked toward Bruce as he entered. Bruce nodded at her anxiously and she nodded back, motioning for him to move forward. He realized that he wasn’t really sure he wanted to, but he’d gone to all the trouble to get down here. He squared his shoulders and approached the cell.

Loki glanced up as Bruce approached, then returned to his book, appearing completely disinterested. It was almost definitely an act; Loki seemed like the kind of person who needed fairly intense enrichment, and a glass cage in a round, white room wasn’t most people’s idea of stimulating. Bruce wondered how long it would be before Loki cracked and started destroying things for fun.

“Hey, Loki,” Bruce greeted hesitantly. He’d come almost all the way up to the glass and could see that there were airholes along the upper rim. The butterfly metaphor solidified.

“Hello, Bruce.” Loki set the book down on the bed and sat up, smiling with all his teeth.  _ There  _ was that wild animal look. It was considerably more intimidating when Loki wasn’t laying on the floor dying. Bruce had to steel himself to avoid taking a reflexive step back as Loki stood (he was  _ taller  _ than Bruce remembered) and meandered over to the glass. 

Bruce turned and glanced at the book Loki had left on the bed, just to avoid eye contact. “Reading Plato?” Interesting choice. 

Loki followed Bruce’s gaze back to the bed as if he wasn’t sure what was being referred to. “Indeed,” he replied. “Your Midgardian philosophy is...interesting.”

“You realize Socrates was thousands of years ago, right?”

“Yes.” Loki blinked and looked down at Bruce imperiously, and the scientist realized that he didn’t know how long gods lived.

“Were you...alive, then?” He asked. Loki laughed (cackled).

“Norns, no. Thor and I are barely a thousand of your years old.” Loki grinned. “What was happening one thousand years ago on Midgard, Bruce?”

“Probably a lot of feuding.”

“Just like home, then, I assume.” A smile touched Loki’s lips and he turned to walk away 

from Bruce, slinking along the perimeter of his cell. “For such a primitive species, you’ve arguably advanced further, politically, than Asgard.” 

“Thanks?” The admission seemed out of character for Loki, who thought himself so high and mighty, though it also implied that he thought himself separate from his home and race (normal psychopath behavior). Bruce was torn between shying away from whatever was happening in Loki’s head and wanting to know more. Even when he’d first met the god he’d picked up these weird vibes, and he’d said it then; the guy was crazy.

When he’d covered about a fourth of the cell’s perimeter, he turned and walked back toward Bruce. He was pacing like a tiger in a cage, though it seemed like more of a saunter, arms clasped behind his back.

“I was wondering when you’d show up, Bruce,” Loki said airily, as if the previous discussion hadn’t occurred. 

“You were sure I would?”

“I was hoping, rather, that you’d come.” Loki paused in his course and smiled charmingly, ducking his head in admission. So bared teeth  _ wasn’t  _ a smile, it was actually a threat.  _ This  _ was a smile, and it was actually (concerningly) disarming. It faded back into a smirk, however, as Loki picked up walking again. Like he had some aversion to holding still for too long.

“And why’s that,” Bruce asked drily.  

“I wanted to make sure you were well, of course, that the green beast was caged. They don’t tell me anything down here, you know, I’m dreadfully bored.” On his third trip back to Bruce, he paused, and leaned in. “I’m curious about you, Banner.”

Bruce leaned away uneasily and almost laughed at the mantra of ‘don’t approach the glass’ jumping around in his head. He didn’t think Loki was quite batshit enough to go full Hannibal Lecter on him, but he didn’t want to find out. And this man, six foot some and somehow towering over Bruce even as he leaned forward, was a far cry from the broken being Bruce had last encountered. A vague little voice in the back of his mind wondered if Loki even  _ could  _ die. 

“I’m, uh, actually curious about you, too,” Bruce admitted, shocking himself with the brazenness of the remark. Loki quirked an eyebrow, looking impressed instead of angry. 

“In that case, I’d invite you to sit down and talk a while,” Loki smirked, “though I doubt you’ll be allowed in with me. A question for a question, then?” Loki tilted his head and looked convincingly amiable. Bruce wondered if Loki couldn’t have simply manipulated his way into a dictatorship on Earth, and the thought made him nervous.

“I don’t have to tell you anything, though, do I?”

“No, of course not,” Loki scoffed. “I cannot  _ force  _ the truth from you, and I am the god of  _ lies, _ so this is on your own merit. Answer or don’t, though I’ll specify the rules are an answer for an  _ answer.  _ If you don’t, I’ll change the question.”

Bruce shifted on his feet.

“You may sit on the floor, if you’d like.” Bruce didn’t dare laugh, though Loki’s persistent conceit was starting to become more of a quirk than an annoyance. Bruce sat on the floor. “I will begin,” Loki dictated, and hurled an already-prepared question at him. “Are you aware of yourself as the green giant?”

Bruce blinked. “No,” he said, slowly. Loki looked like he was torn between pressing for details with another question and honoring the rules of the game. It was Bruce’s turn to ask a question, and he, unlike Loki, had not prepared one. There was so much he wanted to know about where Thor and Loki came from, how science worked, what ‘magic’ actually was…

“What do you do in your free time?”

Loki looked surprised in spite of himself. “Now, or just in general?”

“In general, what do you like to do?”

“I…” he paused, and shook his head vaguely, like it was a difficult question.

“When you were at home, before,” Bruce clarified. Loki’s expression underwent a strange kind of fluctuation between murderous rage, confusion and the blank boredom he was attempting to project.

“Read,” he finally answered. “Study Seidr. Explore.”

“What’s Seidher?”

“Ah-ah, my question,” Loki smiled sharply. “Do you share a consciousness with the beast?”

Bruce didn’t want to talk about the Other Guy, but Loki seemed fascinated with him, and if Bruce refused he’d just be asked a different question about the same subject. “No,” Bruce said. “I mean, I’m aware of what he wants, but he’s not me. He’s like...my anger,” he explained. “I can feel him in my mind, but I don’t know what’s happening when he’s...out. What’s Seider?”

“Seidr. It’s what you call magic.”

“How-”

“ _ My  _ question,” Loki interrupted again. “Have you always had this beast inside you?”

Two could play at Loki’s game. “No.  _ How _ does Seidr work?”

“It’s a complex weaving together of naturally occurring energies to change the fabric of space, time, matter or perception of light or sound.”  _ That  _ was  _ fascinating.  _ Bruce immediately had hundreds more questions for Loki, but it was no longer his turn. Loki leaned in. “If you have not always had the beast, where did it come from?”

“It was a science accident,” Bruce said, and left it at that. “Can anyone have Seidr?”

“By some definitions you humans  _ do  _ practice Seidr _ ,  _ though you do so blindly and clumsily and require siphons for energy that other beings can harness naturally _.  _ Many beings have a natural proclivity for some specific type of Seidr, or a better disposition for Seidr in general, as there is, of course, a great measure of internal energy that one must possess to be able to interact with this external energy; that is what you would call ‘having magic.’ I  _ have  _ magic, but I do not have  _ Seidr.  _ It is similar to how one would, say, possess paint, but not possess  _ painting,  _ though they can create a painting.” He paused, and nodded at his explanation. “It is like that, in a sense. Simplified, of course.”

“So your job is to practice Seidr?”

Loki looked up from his fingernails drily. “No. My job is to be a ruler.” Without breaking the (very intense) eye contact, he continued. “I have dedicated most of my time and energy to Seidr, however. I began learning at a very young age, as my magic is very strong.”

“So you have to learn how to do it? How long does it take?”

“You’ve strayed from the game, Bruce, and I’m afraid I’ve allowed you to. I will answer you this question, and then I get three in return. I have been learning my whole life, and still am. I will never know everything about the cosmos. I began learning under a tutor, then under my mother and father, both of whom practice Seidr...after many years, during which I exceeded my mother’s power and my father’s patience, I left home to study on Vanaheim. After a decade or so I returned home. Now I am my own teacher, and I know things even Odin wouldn’t begin to dream of. I can see the question on your face, Doctor, but it is my turn to ask a question now. I have told you what I do. What do  _ you  _ do?”

“Well, currently I seem to be an Avenger, and before that I was working as a doctor. But you just told me your profession is ruler and your education is in magic, so I’ll tell you that I have PhDs in Radiophysics, Biochemistry, Biophysics--”

“I do not know what a PhD is,” Loki interrupted.

“It’s a professional degree, I guess like what you have in Seidr? Is there any prestige or recognition associated with it?”

Loki laughed. “Heavens, no. Men aren’t supposed to practice Seidr. You cheated a question again, too, I get another.” Bruce had more questions about this magical gendered workforce, but they would wait. “You said you had no control or knowledge of what your beast does. So the two of you each have your own agency?”

“Yes,” Bruce confirmed.

Loki nodded thoughtfully and clasped his hands together, then glanced away. If Bruce hadn’t known any better, he would have thought Loki was  _ nervous.  _ “Why did you help me?” he mumbled, then.

Bruce paused, a bit taken aback. He’d thought Loki would skirt around the issue.

“When I was hurt,” Loki clarified. “Why did you try to heal me?

“It’s...there’s this oath,” he explained. “I never took it, but doctors do, usually. One of the first rules is to do no harm. It’s old, from around the time and place Plato existed.”

“And you never took this oath?”

“No, not...not technically.”

Loki tilted his head like a quizzical puppy. “Then what is to keep you from breaking it?” His expression looked so open and earnest and Bruce really had to keep reminding himself that he did not  _ like  _ Loki. Loki was evil and crazy and angry and destructive and this quiet intelligent side was--

Bruce choked that train of thought. Question game, question game. “Honor, I guess. You guys have that, right?”

Loki chuckled. “Oh, yes, in spades. Usually, at least, as I’ve found myself to be somewhat of an exception.” He glanced knowingly at Bruce, who startled.

“Hey! I get questions now.” He tallied them up in his head. “At least four.”

“Three,” Loki bargained, then raised his eyebrows as if inviting argument (promising he’d strike it down). 

Bruce had about ten times more questions than that.

“What’s your beef with Thor?” He finally asked. There was reinforced glass between them, so he figured it would be alright to invite the beast out a bit.

Loki’s expression hardened immediately and he pursed his lips.

“You don’t have to answer, but if you don’t, I’ll ask another one,” Bruce reminded him.

“He is an arrogant, loudmouthed brat but nobody sees it. He was favored his entire life despite usually not deserving it. Much of what was perceived to be Thor’s merit was helped along by me. But he is perfect without my help, golden and gallant and friendly. I am none of those things. And so Thor is favored by all.” Loki spread his arms dramatically as he finished, though his heart clearly wasn’t in it. He sounded extremely bitter.

“Why did you attack Earth?”

“I needed a realm. Asgard didn’t work out.”

“Where did you get the army?”

Loki stared Bruce down for a moment before replying “Space.” Asshole. “My question.”

Loki paced around in front of Bruce for nearly a full minute, looking as if he was working himself up to something. His demeanor was so profoundly  _ human  _ compared to the previous image he’d projected _.  _ Bruce didn’t know if he liked that or not.

“Why,” Loki finally drawled, mouth hanging open for a moment after the word trailed away. He started again. “This oath. It requires only that you do no harm.”

“Well, it says other things too, but--”

“And you upheld that by not killing me.”

“Yeah.” These were statements, not questions, and Bruce knew that Loki would argue the same if he called him out.

“But the oath did not require that you  _ help  _ me.”

“Actually, I don’t technically know. It doesn’t  _ actually  _ stipulate that, but a lot of people interpret it as--”

“Then. Why. Did. You. Help. Me.” Loki looked down at Bruce with all the intensity he remembered from earlier, scarier conversations. But behind the menace and intimidation, Bruce could see Loki’s question for what it was:  _ desperate.  _

“Because you were in pain. You were dying. And I felt bad for you.”

“Sympathy?”

“Empathy. I saw a person like me who was hurting. And I felt like I should help.” He sounded like Captain America, or like he was patting himself on the back for being  _ such a good person,  _ but it was the truth. “I guess I was thinking, and I thought that I  _ could  _ kill you, maybe that I  _ should  _ kill you, but it didn’t seem right. Even someone like you deserves basic human decency.” He cringed at how that sounded, coming out like an insult.  _ Even someone like you.  _ Evil, irredeemable.

Loki, predictably, reacted to the insult with anger.

“I’m finished speaking with you now,” he said, words clipped. He looked like he was absolutely fuming. “You may see yourself out. I enjoyed our conversation, Doctor Banner, goodnight.” And he turned his back, picked up his book, and sat down on the bed again, ignoring Bruce like a miffed teenager.

“Okay, ah, bye, Loki,” Bruce tested, startled by the abrupt change. Nothing. So he turned away, sparing one more glance at Loki as he headed toward the butterfly trap doors. He  _ almost  _ caught Loki’s retreating gaze. The Other Guy, who had been mostly quiet throughout the conversation, made some angry noises about letting the puny god get away.

Bruce sighed.

His life was just so weird.

**Author's Note:**

> I started writing this forever ago and decided to finish it because I have so many fics in so many fandoms which are just ALMOST there but not quite. I finished "One Shot" a couple days ago and it reminded me of this so I popped some sort of ending onto this guy and here it is for your reading pleasure.
> 
> I'm such a sucker for Loki and Bruce interacting like just let these boys talk. Their personalities play together so well and there are so many parallels between them. This was just an absolute joy to write. Also, Hi, I love writing whump because I've been obsessed with injuries and diseases since I was 3 years old and and nobody can do anything about it.
> 
> If you read this all the way through and enjoyed it, please leave kudos! If you have 30 seconds, shoot me a comment because I receive a surge of endorphins from them which is better than drugs probably. 
> 
> If you're interested in more of my bullshit, my tumblrs are @squeeb100 and @squeeb-art. My writing is currently only posted to Ao3 and I have 2 other weird Loki fics if you're interested.


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